


A small mistake

by dicie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Body Horror, F/F, fem akaashi, fem kuroo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:40:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicie/pseuds/dicie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Kuroo resumes tracing lines between freckles. She creates a circle and then loops within it, each touching the first circle and never further. Somehow, it feels like she knows where she should trace. She begins arcs that form a curved star, each stroke flows into the next and never does her finger miss a freckle.</p>
  <p>"Like a ritual, isn't it?" she muses, enraptured by her own design.</p>
</blockquote>- for SASO 2016 BR4
            </blockquote>





	A small mistake

This morning, Kuroo takes her time looking at Akaashi. The way her hair curls at her neck, then slips into lighter and lighter strands until Kuroo has to be close enough that Akaashi would be able to feel her breath if she were to see them rather than just knowing that they're there. How smooth her skin felt the night before exposed for the truth that it is even with the freckles sprinkled like dark flecks of ink against the copper of the rest of her. The way her breasts curve, small and soft until they meet the sheets. Kuroo considers for a moment slipping her hand between Akaashi's skin and the fabric to cup one, but she knows she'd be treated to Akaashi's patented stare of disapproval, and really, she'd rather continuing her silent appraisal in the dawn light.

Akaashi is softer in the mornings, before she's pulled up all the information she uses throughout the day. Normally, she pieces herself together long before Kuroo has squinted into wakefulness, but on the rare occasions she rests late as the sun keeps crawling up the sky, Kuroo appreciates how she fits such a perfect suit of herself over someone so gentle.

Kuroo brushes a tuft of Akaashi's hair behind her ear and Akaashi's features flicker as she does. 

"Your girlfriend, not a fly," Kuroo murmurs to her.

Akaashi's response is another flicker.

"Promise they're _way_ more annoying than I am," Kuroo replies, figuring she knows Akaashi well enough to interpret her side in her sleep.

A shadow crosses Akaashi's back and when Kuroo twists to the window, she catches the tail end of a crow before it disappears from sight again. She returns to watching Akaashi.

Kuroo skims her fingers over the dips and curves of Akaashi's back, tracing a path between some of her more prominent freckles. When she reaches one of her shoulder blades, she realises with a sheepish smile that Akaashi is watching her fascination.

"Morning," she whispers.

Akaashi blinks.

"I can make tea?"

Akaashi blinks again, slowly this time, like she's fighting the most powerful force in the world to keep her lids from sliding shut. She blinks once more, but this time she doesn't finish the motion, succumbing to her tiredness, leaving her eyelashes interlocked like rows of tiny people holding hands. Kuroo might pass the image on to her later, if only because she likes Akaashi's blank stares when she says something Akaashi would never think of herself.

Kuroo resumes tracing lines between freckles. She creates a circle and then loops within it, each touching the first circle and never further. Somehow, it feels like she knows where she should trace. She begins arcs that form a curved star, each stroke flows into the next and never does her finger miss a freckle. 

"Like a ritual, isn't it?" she muses, enraptured by her own design.

She makes it through a second pass of the pattern when Akaashi's back arches and her hand whips around to slap Kuroo away. 

Kuroo lurches forward. Akaashi twists. Their limbs tangle together. Kuroo finds her hand wedged under Akaashi's body, finger still in contact with her back.

Akaashi narrows her eyes, "You've already gone too far, haven't you?" She sounds annoyed, but resigned. Like there's nothing to be done.

Kuroo's hand steps forward finger by finger so that the one that she was tracing the pattern with continues its path again. Kuroo doesn't remember giving it permission.

"Guess so," she says, as her finger begins to wind its way through the star a third time. There's a note of fear in her voice. She doesn't remember giving it permission to do that. "Might not be the best time, but..." She hesitates, then cringes out a smile. "I love you?" she finishes. She wishes she could sound firmer about it.

Akaashi's eyebrows draw together. They look like two caterpillars about to have sex, but in a good way. Kuroo brushes one of them with the thumb of her free hand.

"Make sure you hold on," Akaashi says, definitely peeved now, her voice without a scrap of emotion as she looks over her shoulder at Kuroo's finger closing the final pass of the circle.

It begins.

Ripples of white spread from the centre of the design Kuroo drew. They spread in concentric circles, one after the other covering Akaashi's back and limbs, curling around her stomach and breasts. They pass under her freckles, apparently undisturbed, until they cross each other in the dip of her cleavage and off centre on her face where they diffuse into radiating starbursts. 

Kuroo pulls in a breath as she realises Akaashi's dark eyes have filled entirely with the feel of midnight, blackness pooling where white should be. In a thought she's aware is designed to help her treat the situation as normal, she wonders if the patterns crawling over Akaashi are made from the whites of her eyes.

Kuroo swallows. She knows, in theory, that only seconds have passed since she finished drawing whatever she did on Akaashi, but every one of those seconds has a weight to it like they contain more time than usual. A tear slides down from the corner of her eye. Akaashi looked slightly peeved before, but now she looks like an insect, expressionless but alert. Insects work in such simple terms: put in one action, receive another. Kuroo hopes she'll get her girlfriend back. Even if she knew she wasn't coming back from whatever this is, Akaashi might not say goodbye, she's that kind of person.

Akaashi's lips part. Her black eyes remain locked to Kuroo's brown ones. Kuroo reaches a hand up and brushes her thumb against Akaashi's cheek. The ripples on Akaashi's skin slide over to Kuroo's. They aren't as strong on her skin, but each band tingles as it slides up. Akaashi's lips curl into an open-mouthed smile. Her teeth are pointed.

Kuroo gasps as pain stabs at her temples like the world's worst hangover. She loses track of what Akaashi is doing as she curls in on herself, squeezing her eyes shut to block out the light and will the pain away. She hopes Akaashi can take care of herself.

Kuroo gasps again and mumbles as more pain washes over her, but she can't hear anything more from Akaashi.

"Status report, Akaashi?" she asks, not sure what she hopes to get in reply, or whether she wants one.

Kuroo's breaths come loudly and she swallows louder noises to see if she can hear anything from Akaashi.

She can't.

Her fingers twist into the sheets and her heart rate peaks. She squeezes her eyes together more firmly; the pain is too much to raise her head. Trying to pull herself together is futile, but she makes an attempt to work _with_ her rising panic, instead of against it.

Panicking is reasonable, she thinks. Logical, even. Not _helpful_ but she was captain of a high school volleyball team, she can manage with things that aren't helpful.

First, she does inventory. Gingerly, she touches her fingers to her temples. She encounters sliding bone, pushing out from her skin, tacky with something that smells like blood.

Okay, she thinks. Horns. Cool.

(It's not cool, but she can pretend for a while.)

Next, she traces up one arm and across her chest — ("What chest?" Kenma's quiet voice says in her memory. Kuroo stifles a laughing sob. What she would give to have Kenma here instead of this alien version of her girlfriend. She'd give anything to have the real Akaashi, too, but she doesn't have the opportunity to make a trade.) — to her other arm. The ripples on her skin are cold, not freezing, but cold like rocks in places where the sun never reaches. They cover all of one arm and just over the elbow of her other one, radiating down to her bellybutton. Her nipples are hard, she doesn't know whether it's from the cold or because she's always been something of a masochist. 

Tentatively, she slips her fingers between her legs. She hisses. Can't be anything but a masochist with how wet she is. She's sensitive and, while the rest of her might be growing colder, _that_ area is flushed with heat. Experimentally, she brushes her thumb over her clit and moans. The pain in her head lessens as she does, pleasure taking over. Taking that as a perverted hint, she presses her fingers inside herself.

She goes straight for three fingers, no time for messing around when she's already slick and the pain is beginning to radiate further back from her temples. She doesn't know how she's going to look coming out of this, but can't imagine it will be pretty. Horns will only fuck her hair up more.

Crooking her fingers to hit the perfect spot, she fucks herself. Weirdly, she feels out of practise. Something to talk to Akaashi about. If Akaashi ever loses that alien look. 

Gingerly, she raises her head, careful to keep her fingers moving inside herself — every time she slows, or even thinks about slowing, the pain in her head peaks — and searches for Akaashi. Finding her isn't hard.

She's staggering down out of what looks like a harness made of midnight but Kuroo suspects she should be calling a cocoon. Behind her are crumpled butterfly wings, the same moonlight white as the rings still crawling across her skin. Akaashi twists to view them. And frowns.

"They're pretty," Kuroo says, weakly.

"They get in the way," Akaashi replies and Kuroo would have fallen over in relief if she had been standing.

"You're back?"

"I never left."

Kuroo takes a moment to appreciate how this must look: Akaashi, naked, with new wings that are still drying, Kuroo on their bed, also naked, fingers of one hand still inside her up to her knuckles, horns bursting out from her head.

"Uh," she says, words failing her in the face of the situation. "Would you kill me if I made a joke about being horny?"

Akaashi glances up over Kuroo's head. "They're antlers."

A laugh springs from Kuroo's lips as tears well in her eyes. The pain prickles up again and she sags into the sheets, her face pressed into the cloth.

"Not much difference. Figure I'm allowed," she mumbles. She wants to start fucking herself again, but somehow it feels awkward now Akaashi's watching. Even though she's her girlfriend who has seen her come more times than she can count.

Akaashi clucks her tongue. A second later, sharp pain hits Kuroo as her head is yanked upwards. It doesn't last long, because Akaashi presses their lips together, slips her tongue into Kuroo's mouth and kisses her until Kuroo doesn't care whether she never breathes again.

Akaashi breaks away, takes a breath herself then says, "Move your hand." 

Kuroo can only assume that Akaashi knows it helps with the pain. And only assume that she's picked up somewhere along the line that Kuroo _likes_ a bit of pain, because she doesn't let her grip on her antlers go either. It helps them settle, or something, because by the time Kuroo comes — gasping, a few tears trickling down her cheeks — the pain has become an ache Kuroo can live with.

"This happen often?" Kuroo asks, regarding Akaashi. Her wings are drier now, stiffening into a proper shape. They're beautiful. Kuroo wonders whether she'll be able to fly.

"Not for a while," Akaashi replies, with a look to suggest she's regretting letting Kuroo close enough for it to happen this time.

"Pity," Kuroo says. Akaashi frowns, so she elaborates. "Way more jokes to be made if there's a herd of us."

One corner of Akaashi's mouth tugs up before she can school it back down. "Not like you to be part of a herd."

Kuroo breaks into laughter. Akaashi winces with regret as she pulls into a hug with a sloppy kiss. 

They can manage this, maybe. 

She kisses her again. 

Definitely.


End file.
